The Black Stallion Goes for Gold
by Jenza Quinn
Summary: final races leading to the first olympic horse race (based on the black stallion series by w and s farley, please don't sue)
1. The Olympic Trials

****

Preface

Alec stood over the modest grave. He kneeled in front of the stone. He placed a single dried rose on the polished granite. The rose was from the blanket of flowers bestowed to him and his young stallion Satan after the Kentucky Derby. It was a year since her death. The past year had been busy. The Black with him aboard had galloped to victory in many races in order to rack up enough points to qualify for the first horse race in Olympic history. The preparations consumed him, but her presence still crept around the edges of his mind. He lightly traced her engraved name with his fingers. He drew his fingertips to his lips, kissed them, and then lightly brushed them against the cold stone. He rose and stared down at her grave. He strove to fight the tears brimming in his blue eyes.

"Come on, Alec," Henry called from the car. "You have a big race tomorrow. You need to rest."

Alec brushed away the moisture in his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Comin' Henry," he replied. He glanced once more at the grave. Then, he turned and walked to the car. He needed to put the past behind him. He had a big day tomorrow.

The Olympic Trials

1

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Aqueduct and the last race of the North American Finals," said the announcer over the loudspeaker system. "The horse that wins this race will represent us in this summer's Olympic games in Atlanta. It's been a difficult journey so far for these teams of steed and rider. Many of them have been going through a tedious schedule to rack up enough points to be the lucky Olympian. The Black and young Ramsay are in the lead so far, but Duda or Tabasco Cat could easily steal their glory away if they win this race. And now the horses have come onto the track, better get your bets in quickly."

North America's finest racehorses paraded in front of the grandstand, their coats gleaming in the New York sunlight. The fans' eyes followed the well-muscled horses and their colorfully dressed jockeys as they cantered by. The viewers' eyes remained on the spirited black stallion and his jockey in the black silks of Hopeful Farms for most of the parade, though. The fans could see that the Black was giving his young jockey, Alec Ramsay, a rough time, tossing his Arabian head often and constantly asking for more rein.

_It feels good to be racing again_, thought Alec. _After all the earthquakes it is nice to have things back to normal. I still miss Pam terribly_… He was doing it again. Pam was gone. He needed to focus on the race right now. This would be their only chance of going to the Olympics. The Black was good, but not good enough to last through four more years of racing. Alec inhaled and then expelled all thoughts except for the moment at hand.

Alec walked the Black to the number three position at the starting gate. He guided the Black slowly into the stall and asked him to halt as the back door of the stall clanged shut behind them. Alec adjusted his stirrups, making sure they were secure and intact. Then, he leaned forward, parallel to his horse's muscular neck, whispering to the Black in their secret language. To his left, he could see the small black head and large intelligent eyes of Duda. He would have to worry about the filly in the last quarter of the race for she was a late runner. To his right was the chestnut and white face of Tabasco Cat, a sprinter.

The last horse reared right before the gate opening, making the other horses wait. The Black was becoming impatient and started pawing the ground. The last horse, Ulysses, after some pushing and prodding, finally entered the gate. Alec looked forward at the long open track, knowing the mesh gate would open in any second.

The bells rang and a wave of seven horses rushed out of the opened starting gate, leaving one rearing bay horse behind. The Black easily took the lead, but was followed closely by Tabasco Cat. Alec asked the Black to slow down a bit, knowing that if they kept up this pace they would have nothing left for the last quarter.

The Black shook his head, hating the cold, metal bit tightly gripping the corners of his mouth. He could see a small chestnut stallion coming up on his right side. He could smell the scent of the oncoming horse, but knew he couldn't fight the stallion. He saw the stallion's head come up beside his and, despite where he was, bared his teeth and pinned his back. The Black's blood boiled as the stallion went ahead by a length and plunged after him, wanting to regain his lead. 

The Black heard his rider's gentle voice saying, "Whoa, Black. Whoa," and could taste the awful, metallic bit being pressed against his tongue. The Black snorted in disgust and relentlessly let Tabasco Cat add lengths to his lead. The Black easily galloped down the backstretch, staying three lengths ahead of the pack, but five lengths behind Tabasco Cat.

Three quarters down the backstretch, Alec saw Tabasco Cat loosing ground and tiring. As they rounded the turn, Alec let out one notch of the reins. The Black charged forward after the tiring chestnut stallion and passed him coming out of the turn. Down the homestretch they came, the Black leading them all by six lengths and increasing. Then, suddenly from the outside came a fragile black filly, her thin black legs barely touching the ground. It was Duda and she was coming up on the Black fast. Alec gave the Black his head and the stallion lengthened his strides until they seemed to gobble up the ground between him and the finish line. The small filly would never be able to catch him, but she still poured out more speed without her jockey whipping her. She showed she had what made a race horse the greatest, speed, guts, and heart. 

The Black crossed the finish line in record time with Duda three lengths behind. The Black pranced to the winners circle, his head held high and flowing tail erect. He posed for the cameras as a wreath of flowers was placed around his arched neck.

_We did it!_ thought Alec. He wrapped his arms around the Black's neck. Then, he jumped off the proud stallion and hugged his trainer and long time friend.

"Henry! We did it!" Alec exclaimed as the reporters bustled in to get their comments.

Many miles away in Australia, a muscular, black filly with a triangular star and a white patch where the saddle should be was trying to catch up with two other horses in the race, ten lengths away.

Jenza Quinn, bent low to her filly's neck, was absorbed by the filly's billowing black mane. They had a bad start and Jenza had been caught unprepared when the gates had opened. Her imbalance had caused the Phantom to stumble badly and, now, they had to make up for Jenza's mistake. She could feel the filly's powerful muscles surging between her sweat-soaked legs. It was wonderful to ride bareback. The Phantom always ran better, too, when she was uninhibited by the saddle.

Jenza saw Thorah, a creamy palomino, and Quantum Leap, a dark buckskin, halfway down Flemington Racecourse's backstretch. The Phantom desperately wanted to catch up with them and increased her speed with every stride she took. Their foes drew closer and closer. Jenza loved her filly so much. She always gave one hundred and ten percent. She had never felt her run this fast either. They really had a chance of not only winning this race, but the Olympics, too. Jenza had had her doubts throughout the campaign for points. Was she doing the right thing? Was she just wasting both of their time and energy? However the Phantom surprised her every time and never let her down. With the stallions three lengths ahead, Phantom increased her stride to an even greater length going into the turn. Coming out of the turn and galloping down the homestretch, the Phantom's head had reached the two leaders' rumps and she was gaining still more speed. _We're going to actually win_, thought Jenza as they passed the two stallions and with still-increasing strides, rocketed down the homestretch.

In the stands, a man watched the filly, looking more like a black blur than a horse, pass under the finish wire and remembered a similar race he had seen in Chicago years ago. It was a match race between Cyclone, the pride of the east, Sun Raider, the champion of the west coast, and a pure black mystery horse who a reporter claimed could beat them both. The black stallion had a bad start, leaving the gate with his red head jockey half out of the saddle. He had been a hundred yards behind, but had bore down on the two leaders and won by two lengths.

He watched the Phantom, prancing in the winners circle, and wondered if this miraculous, black filly could beat the Black Stallion in the upcoming twenty-mile race that they and four other outstanding horses would run at the Olympics.

In Japan, the land of the rising sun, a Midnight Star was shining brightly. A black filly with a white diamond on her forehead was leading the field with a chestnut stallion with a sideways star and a white snip named Gizmo right by her side. 

Midnight Star's jockey, Samantha Ott, kept Star at an easy pace, knowing that if she got into a speed duel with Gizmo now, the rest of the field would pass them in the last quarter of the race. Apparently, Gizmo's jockey, Yamaguchi, thought the same thing.

They galloped down the backstretch and into the turn. As Star rounded the turn with long strides, Sam felt wet, cold drops of rain splatter on her yellow and green silks and drip onto her filly's glistening black coat. The overcast sky let out in a downpour of gallons of water. The track became muddy slop that swallowed the horses' hooves and made sucking sounds as they quickly picked them up again. 

The field came out of the turn and down the homestretch, the horses' jockeys' colorful silks dull and brown with mud. Sam let Star out a few notches and Star lengthened her strides enough so she was able to pass Gizmo but she wouldn't slip. Then suddenly from the outside, Gizmo came charging past Midnight Star at break-neck speed. He slid over to the rail, in front of Star, and galloped two lengths ahead, Yamaguchi whipping Gizmo all the way. Gizmo was five lengths ahead when he stumbled and nearly went down. Yamaguchi whipped his horse and kicked his legs hard against Gizmo's muddy and sweat-soaked sides. Gizmo dug into the slop and charged forward for a 6-length lead.

A furlong away from the finish line, Gizmo's legs' slid out from under him and he went down hard, right in Midnight Star's path. Sam had no time to move Star over. She dropped her feet out of the short stirrups, so that her legs wrapped around Star's thin body. At the right moment, Sam squeezed her legs tightly around Star's body and Star sprung into the air, soaring over the huddled body of the chestnut horse and rider and landing safely on the other side. Star slipped a bit, but regained her balance and galloped towards the finish line. Star passed under the wire with Samurai Sun's head just reaching her rump.

Sam couldn't believe it. She was going to the Olympics. She - Sam Ott - would show how well her filly could run.

"And they're coming around the first turn. It's Khemosabi in the lead. Two lengths behind is a close pack with Night Wind in second, Quickwits in third. In the middle of the pack is Lady Tiger, looking for racing room in fourth. In fifth is Savanna Showdown and three lengths behind the pack is Kenya's Charger."

"Here they come down the backstretch, Khemosabi still has the lead by three lengths followed by Quickwits and Night Wind very close. Lady Tiger is on the rail behind them, but Savanna Showdown has pulled up beside the light chestnut mare and is sill moving forward. Lady Tiger is behind a wall of three horses. She's moving to the outside to try to go around them before the turn, but wait!! Kenya's Charger is charging towards her outside. He's behind Night Wind and beside Lady Tiger. She's blocked in. Kenya's Charger is moving inside, pushing Lady Tiger to the rail. It looks like she's have to wait until Quickwits moves or for something to happen to Kenya's Charger."

"Going around the turn the favorite, Khemosabi now has a five length lead. Quickwits is moving out, pushing Night Wind and Savanna Showdown to the outside. There's a hole on the rail and Abisha, the jockey, is moving Lady Tiger through the opening, hoping it won't close. Lady Tiger is half way through the hole and moving through fast. Oh no!! Quickwits has swerved in, pinning Lady Tiger on the rail. Quickwits is still moving in. It looks like Abisha will have to pull her up. Lady Tiger is picking up speed coming into the home stretch. Her jockey is going for her whip and she's made it through the hole. Just in time, too. Quickwits has crashed through the rail and is laying in the infield."

"Down the home stretch they come. Khemosabi's in first, but here comes Lady Tiger. She's running like her tail's on fire! Khemosabi is running all out, but Lady Tiger is still gaining on the dark bay stallion. They're neck and neck coming down to the line. It looks like it'll be a photo finish but wait.... Lady Tiger still has more to give! Abisha's asking Lady Tiger for more and Lady Tiger is giving it to her. Lady Tiger's lengthening her strides and she's ahead by a head and gaining. They're crossing the finish line and the winner is Lady Tiger by half a length. Lady Tiger is going to the Olympics! We're very proud that this courageous filly is representing Africa."

The announcer flipped off the loudspeaker system. He stretched and then left his broadcasting box high above one of the few African racetracks. He walked down to the little cafeteria to get a cup of coffee before the next race. As he drank his coffee, he thought of the Olympics. If that filly runs as well as she did today, the Olympics are going to be very interesting.

In purple and green silks, Jillian Bearden leaned close to her Kinger Mustang stallion, Courageous King's, neck. She was desperately trying to gain control of her dusty bay stallion. "Whoa, CK! Whoa!" she yelled to him, but the wind seemed to push the words into her throat. Jillian pulled on the reins, but Courageous King didn't feel any pressure because the bit was in between his teeth. He knew that he had control.

_I shouldn't have tried to hold him back so long, _Jillian told herself._ If I had let him out a little around the first turn, CK wouldn't have ripped the reins out of my hands and gotten out of control. Right now he knows no master. He is like that wild stallion I saw three years ago, running across the plains and mountains of Montana, like his great granddaddy. I'm surprised he hasn't bucked me off yet._

Courageous King plunged around the turn with increasing speed. Jillian looked back at the rest of the field, many lengths behind. Jillian knew that the crowd in Doncaster, England's stands and the sports caster had no idea what was happening on the turf track. They thought that Jillian was just making an early move at the lead, thinking that her stallion could run at that speed for the whole mile. They did not know that Jillian had no control of how fast or in which direction they went. Courageous King pounded down the homestretch with no sign of decreasing speed. Jillian glanced back again and saw a pure white mare galloping toward them with gigantic strides. Jillian started to worry, not knowing if CK could stay ahead of the oncoming challenger or if she would be able to control his actions when he sees the mare, Lady Roxanne.

They were a furlong from the finish line. Lady Roxanne was two lengths behind Courageous King and gaining. Jillian was nervous, glancing back every ten seconds at the oncoming mare. Then, suddenly, the reins went slack. CK had let go of the bit! Jillian had control again. Lady Roxanne had pulled up beside them and was about to pass them. Jillian leaned close to CK's neck and said urgently in his ear, "GO, CK! GO!" Jillian kneaded her hands along the sides of her stallion's neck. CK sprung forward and passed Lady Roxanne. He rocketed under the finish wire, Lady Roxanne one length behind. 

Jillian stood up in her stirrups and pulled back on the reins. When he slowed to a walk, Jillian patted his neck. Then she leaned forward and joyously whispered in his ear, "We won!! We're going to the Olympics!"


	2. the meeting

Ok, for those who wanted it, here's a would-be part two ****

Ok, for those who wanted it, here's a would-be part two. It's quite a jump, but I couldn't get myself to write or my mind to even conceive of a transition part yet. It may come soon though, along with a revised version of the first chapter. It's just going to take time because I need to research and stuff and I'm lazy. Any way, on with the show! Oh, and to reply to a review, I just like black horses. I grew up on the Black Stallion and Black Beauty and stuff, so in my mind, black is the best color for a horse. Enjoy. 

Alec walked the Black through the gap leading away from the track. He unsnapped the chinstrap to his helmet as he pulled the Black up beside Henry. Alec exchanged Henry's happy smile, trying to keep the Black in one place. 

"If he runs like that in the race, the gold is ours!" Henry exclaimed as the Black pranced around him. "Why don't you check out the trails around here. You both deserve a good break." 

"Whatever you say, Henry," Alec called back, his cheeks flushed from the exhilarating ride. "See you back at the stable in a while."

Alec led the Black away from the hustle and bustle of the track. He guided his trusty black stallion along one of the many trails at the Georgia Horse Park. He closed his eyes and concentrated only on the swaying movement of his horse's walk. He breathed in the fresh, pine-scented morning air. It was enjoyably cool in the shadows of the forest. It felt good to get away from the routine and excitement of the track and stable. It was just Alec and the Black. The way it had been in the beginning. On the deserted island that the Black had brought them to after _the Drake_ sunk. He could still hear the hoof beats of their first exiting ride. The hoof beats sounded too clear to be from a dream. Alec opened his eyes suddenly and listened to the world around him. The hoof beats were still shattering the morning silence.

"Left side! Comin' through!" someone shouted from behind him. Alec turned in his saddle just as a black horse galloped by, taking the Black by surprise. The Black shied to the right, nearly slamming Alec into a huge pine tree growing at the side of the trail. The Black stood still; his nostrils flared and ears pricked forward. He watched the phantom horse and rider gallop away, his muscles trembling with excitement. He raised his elegant head high and let out a shrill whinny. Before Alec could react, the Black snatched the bit between his teeth and bolted after the runaway horse.

Alec was helpless. The Black was ignoring Alec's signals to stop. Instead, the Black lengthened his stride and increased his speed. All Alec could do was to sit back and wait for the Black to drop the bit. He watched as the gap between them and the mysterious horse and rider closed slowly. The Black switched leads causing the gap to suddenly close more quickly. As the Black rapidly approached the runaway, Alec finally got a good look at the horse and rider. The horse was midnight black with a white triangular star whose corners overlapped her dark green eyes. She had a white patch on her back that would be perfectly covered by a saddle. Behind the white patch were two parallel scars that straddled her rump. She appeared to not be a purebred, but actually looked like a smaller version of the Black. This filly had the conformation for racing. 

The rider, however, did not look like the typical jockey. He was short, a little taller than five feet, had a muscular body, and wore the typical horseracing helmet, but the rest of his appearance was wrong. Instead of wearing the typical riding boots, skintight jophers, and white polo shirt, He wore ragged black tennis shoes, jean shorts, and a black T-shirt with the Olympic logo on it. Despite his apparel, the jockey had a good seat and riding position. As Alec drew closer to them, he noticed a long, brown braid running down the middle of the rider's back. At that moment, the rider glanced back directly at Alec. The rider was a girl! His heart leapt as her bright green eyes seemed to search his soul. Memories of Pam filled his mind and were replaced with this new image.

Alec watched as the green-eyed girl collected her filly without any movement. Filly and rider soared over a fallen tree across the trail in perfect unison. They landed smoothly on the other side and seamlessly galloped down the rest of the path. Alec watched on in awe as the horse and rider disappeared around a turn. He was then jerked back to reality. The log loomed across the path. Alec couldn't stop the Black in time, even if his horse was listening to him. The only path of action was to jump over the log. Alec tried one last time to slow the Black, but he still surged forward. Alec remembered the actions of the other rider and attempted to mimic them. He sat up straight and stretched his legs around the Black's belly. They quickly approached the log. Alec thought out the strides and soaring over the jump. 

"One, two, three…and lift off!" Alec whispered. He leaned forward at the same moment as the previous rider, but a different situation occurred. The Black skidded to a stop, throwing Alec up onto the stallion's arched neck. Realizing that he could not stop in time, the Black hurled himself over the fallen tree. Alec grasped desperately at the Black's flowing mane to keep his balance as he was nearly thrown off backwards. They were in midair over the log, which looked a whole lot bigger and wider than before. The Black landed hard and stumbled, jarring Alec out of the saddle to the left side. Alec clung to the side of the black stallion's neck and tried to pull himself back onto the saddle as the ground swiftly moved past him. The turn approached quicker than Alec expected. He was caught by surprise when the Black leaned towards him as he went around the left-hand turn. Alec slid off his horse and landed in a ball among the underbrush along the side of the trail. He watched the Black gallop away, bucking and kicking. 

Alec sat up painfully and listened to the fading hoof beats and shrill whinny. He rested against the trunk of a nearby tree and sighed. "Some break," he muttered.

Alec let out a big sigh. How was he going to explain this to Henry? He could just picture it now. Famous jockey Alec Ramsay returning from a leisurely trail ride covered in dirt and brambles. And horseless. _This is so embarrassing!_ Alec thought. He wouldn't hear the last of this from Henry or the other jockeys for awhile. Alec rose from the ground with the support of a nearby tree. He winced slightly at the aches and bruises acquired from the fall. He grimaced at the thought of how much his body was going to hurt tomorrow morning.

Alec glanced down the trail. There was no sign of his horse. He whistled, but the Black did not reply. Alec gave a big sigh and started to tramp down the path. He had lost all hope when a piercing whistle came around the corner. Alec stopped and whistled back. He waited. And waited. A long high whistle sounded around the corner with the Black following. The Black pranced toward Alec under the guidance of the mystery horse and rider. The Black whinnied at Alec and then bumped his head against his owner's chest. 

The mystery rider glanced down at Alec and then at the black stallion. She smiled at him and tossed him the reins. "Lose something?" she asked him jokingly. 

Alec could feel his face burning, but he did not know if it was from anger or embarrassment. "Yes. Well, um, thanks for bringing my horse back," he mumbled.

"Your welcome. I figured he was ours. Unless you are into taking trail rides without horses. He gave me quite a chase. He'd make a terrific racehorse. Probably give me a challenge in this upcoming race."

"We ARE in the race!" Alec replied through clenched teeth.

"Oh," she commented sheepishly. She blushed underneath her tan. "I'm sorry. There are just so many horses here and I assumed that you were in the Equestrian part. Although, you obviously aren't in jumping otherwise you wouldn't have fallen off. You know, that was dangerous jumping an untrained horse at that speed. You're lucky that you or your horse didn't get hurt."

"Well, you should learn the rules around here! How could you do such a reckless thing! Nobody gallops on the trails! That's what the training oval is for! If you had gone by someone of less experience THEY may have been seriously hurt!"

Alec swung himself into the Black's saddle and spun him around to face the girl. "You should be more careful and considerate to the other riders!" Alec kicked the Black's sides with a thud. The Black reared at this sudden and harsh treatment and galloped away. The green-eyed girl stared quizzically at the departing jockey. 

She turned her filly toward the trail leading to the stable. She glanced over her shoulder and sighed. "Hypocritical jerk," she muttered and trotted off to her temporary home. 


	3. 

Alec galloped down the trail at break-neck speed ****

Well, here's the next part of my little melodrama. Sigh, aren't they so cute? squeak Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Oh, and I have seen a horse with really dark green eyes and even though horses rarely or never have green green eyes, I just really want a horse with green eyes. pouts, stamps foot, and has princess momentAnyway, it's more like a very blue green, but soon I shall have a whole corral full of green eyed horses once I find the gene for eye color in horsies. Mwuhahahahahahahaha! blushes Sorry, I have mad scientist moments sometimes. Well, again enjoy the melodrama. Tootles! Oh, and I don't own Alec or the Black, but I do own Jenza and the Phantom. Ok, now I'm really done talking, I promise.

Alec galloped down the trail at break-neck speed. He urged the Black on faster and faster, feeling his anger grow as the trees whizzed by. _Who does she think she is! _he thought. _Telling me how to ride MY horse! I'm a world class jockey. I know what I'm doin'! Why else would I be here! And it's HER fault that I had to jump that log! If she wasn't gallopin' done the trail…_

His angry melted away and was replaced by stupidity. He looked down at his lathered horse that staggered from the effort that he had put out. Alec eased the Black down to a walk and gave him a pat. The Black stretched his neck out graciously and settled into a slow swaying walk. Alec felt like getting off there and kicking himself. He had been such a jerk. He yelled at some one who was nice enough to bring his horse back and save him from humiliation. Then he was inconsiderate to his horse and did what he yelled at her about just because she was trying to have a conversation. His head lowered in dismay.

"Well, Black. You sure have a nice owner. He finally finds a girl he likes. And what does he do? He blows her off! What am I going to do?"

She walked her horse leisurely through the dappled sunlight. The day started all right. She had a nice gallop on the Phantom and the jump over the log was wonderful. _But what was that guy's problem, _she thought. _Nobody is on the trails this early in the morning and every one knows that trail has a log blocking the way, so no one uses it. Maybe he's new here. But if he's in the race he arrived here a week ago._ She sighed and shook her head. "Men. I will never understand the male ego, will I, Phan?"

The Phantom snorted loudly and tossed her head. Her rider laughed at her antics and pulled her up at the entrance to their stable. She dismounted and patted her horse's damp neck. She turned and smiled at her trainer who was approaching with a bucket of cool water and sponges. She exchanged the control of the reins for the water bucket and began to wash the Phantom.

"So. 'Ow was the ride, Jenza?" her trainer finally asked as she held the Phantom.

"Oh Michelle, it was great! That log I spotted on the last trail ride was an excellent jump. We sailed right over it in perfect style! I keep wondering why I didn't enter steeple chasing instead." Jenza drenched the Phantom's back with a spongeful of water and rubbed the sweat mark off. The Phantom grunted contently and proceeded to rub her head against Michelle. The horse and rider enjoyed the moment of silence that passed between them when it was suddenly broken.

"Ya know perfectly well why you don steeple chase!" Michelle commented sternly. "Ya parents barely allowed ya to race, let alone get near a 'oss, after that accident. And we both know that both ya and the Phantom would choke if ya ever competed over jumps again!"

Jenza winced at the harsh, but true, words. She touched the scars that riddled the Phantom's back and conjured up all her strength to prevent from touching the ones that stained her face. "You're right," she sighed, "like always." She wistfully dropped the sponge into the bucket and took the reins from Michelle. She walked past Michelle as she began to cool the Phantom down. Michelle saw the pain within her eyes as past memories reemerged and decided it was a good time to change the subject. 

"Soo. Did anything intrestin' 'appen on the trail?"

Alec glanced up at Henry, hoping he didn't notice the extra lathered sweat on the Black. "No, it was just a nice, normal trail ride," Alec replied while scrubbing the Black's back.

Henry gave him an "oh-really" look. "So, you just decided to dismount in the middle of the ride and take a roll in the dirt." He pointed at Alec's dirt-encrusted britches and shirt. Alec weakly smiled at him.

"The trail was dusty." Henry shot him the look again. Alec sighed. "Ok, so I fell off, it's not any big deal and it wasn't my fault."

"An' whose was it?"

With a quizzical look, Jenza turned back to Michelle. "Actually, something very interesting happened. You know that trail I was telling you about, with the log." Michelle nodded. "Well, I was galloping to jump over the log, and I pass this dufus in his own little world while his stallion saunters along. I was really shocked to see anyone on the trail and I know trail etiquette and all, but there was no way I could stop Phan safely to walk past. So I yelled out, 'Left side, coming through," and slowed Phan as much as possible. The guy must have been all the way to Andromeda because he totally lost control of his horse, which decided to get into a little match race. Man, that stallion was fast and he had movement to die for. Well, I tried to indicate that the log was ahead, but he was really trying to get that wild beast under control. We made it over the log fine. However, when I glanced back to see how our adversary was doing, I only see his horse bucking toward us. I slowly pulled up Phan to try to get up beside the brute, but he took it as an invitation to surge forward. He gave me a wonderful chase, but finally, after some snaps and pinned ears, I got him and towed him back to the rider. The guy looked really embarrassed when I gave him his horse."

"What did the guy look like?"

"Uh, he was about five two, had like guy-medium length red hair and these really gorgeous blue eyes."

"Was 'e cute?" Michelle smirked as Jenza blushed.

"Yeah," Jenza murmured. Jenza placed her hand between the Phantom's front legs and then ran her hand over her steed's back. "She's cool."

Michelle redid Jenza's motions. "Yup, let's move this little soap opera in doors." Jenza slapped Michelle with the end of the lead rope and then followed her into the barn.

"But anyway," Jenza started again, "I was kind enough to return this jerk's horse and try to be friendly, and he goes off the deep end, saying that I should be more careful. Then he leaps on his horse and gallops away. Can you believe that…awph!"

Jenza deposited Phantom in her stall and gave her some carrots to munch on. Michelle had gone straight to their designated office.

"What did the 'oss look like?" Jenza heard emanate from the office.

"Um, he was a stallion. About seventeen hands. Looked like he had a lot of Arab in him. Oh yeah, and he was completely black, not one speck of white," Jenza answered as she rubbed all of the Phantom's favorite itchy head spots. "Why do you ask?"

Michelle came out of the office with a magazine in her hand. "Is this the guy?"

Jenza inspected the picture. The inconsiderate jerk sat on the big black stallion, a huge smile spread across his face as he held the silver trophy high over his head. "Yeah, that's the guy."

"That's not any guy, Jenza. You just got Alec Ramsay pissed at ya."

"THE Alec Ramsay! The one from the shipwreck who brought back that wild…black…stal…" Jenza cradled her head in her hands. "I am soooo stupid!"

"Whad ya do?"

"I told the one of the greatest American jockeys how to ride his prize-winning stallion who he trained."

"And then," Alec spurted, "she had the gall to tell ME how to ride MY horse! Can you believe that…rrrr!"

"Well obviously she could teach you a thing or two. She stayed on her horse. You didn't," commented Henry nonchalantly.

Alec glared as he put the Black in his stall. "Don't even start with me, Henry." Alec dug into his tack trunk and found an apple. He was starving. He bit into the apple and then gave the rest to his steed.

"So, was she cute?"

Alec nearly choked on the piece of apple. He swallowed it and blurted, "Me, think that snot nosed brat is cute! I mean, it's un…, I could nev.., where do you get off asking me something like that!" 

Henry leaned against the Black's stall and did that half-smile thing he always grinned when he knew he had gotten Alec.

"What!" Alec exclaimed.

Henry just stood there, grinning like a demonic Cheshire cat. It gave Alec the creeps.

"OK! OK! She was cute. There, you happy!" Alec stormed down the hallway to the office. Even if he thought she was cute, he shouldn't have to admit it. And after Pam and all. He hated it when Henry did that. What he despised more was that Henry knew it always worked. He flopped down into the folding chair behind the portable table and flipped through the newspaper.

"Whatcha lookin' for, Alec?" Henry asked as he walked through the door.

"I'm gonna find out who that brat is." He scanned the Olympics section and on the racing page found her picture. "That's her!" He read aloud the description under the photograph. "Jenza Quinn, from Australia, five foot, horse is the Phantom…"

"What? Give me that." Henry grabbed the paper away from a confused Alec.

"What'd you do that for?"

"Just as I thought. You just made a fool of yourself in front of our main competition."

"Huh?"

"Your snot nosed brat and her filly did the mile in the same time we did. She's fast an' from what I've read the brat is very talented. They have been compared to you an' the Black many times. An' they seem to have the same rapport. They could easily beat us."


	4. Bad Hay

AN: Here's the next installation ****

AN: Here's the next installation. It takes a little side trip from Alec and Jenza, but it gets the story moving a bit. Thank you all for reviewing. I'm sorry that more isn't coming out quicker, but my muse deserted me and I just can't get into the writing mood. Please R&R and enjoy the story. Oh, and some Japanese translations: _kuso_ is shit, _hai_ is yes, _gomennasai_ is I'm sorry, _Star wa genki desuka _is Is Star feeling healthy, and _Sayonara_ is goodbye.

Pulling the stray strands of hay out of her black hair, Sam walked down the barn aisle. The reception party for the Olympic jockeys was in an hour and she still needed to take a shower. She just wanted to check on Star before she left for the night. She turned the corner leading to Japan's section of the stable. She passed Samurai's stall and peaked in. The chestnut stallion had welts on his back. "That bastard!" Sam thought aloud. She opened the stall door to check on the wounds, when she heard a moaning from down the aisle. She quickly closed the door and ran to Star's stall. 

Star was pacing around her stall. She groaned as she stopped and nipped at her belly. Then, she curled her legs under her body and rolled onto the ground. "Kuso! She's colicking!" Sam threw the door open and held Star's head to prevent her from rolling. She pushed Star to make her stand. Once Star was standing, Sam grabbed the halter and lead shank from outside the stall and threw them on Star's head. She dragged Star out of the stall and forced her to keep walking. She stopped by each office and looked in. Finally, she found one with a person in it.

"Call the vet!" she barked in Japanese. "Star is colicking!"

"Hai!" responded the attendant as she picked up the phone and dialed.

Thinking how could this have happened, Sam walked Star around the driveway until the veterinarian arrived. She told her story to the vet and handed Star over to the assistant. Sam then stalked back to Star's stall. She looked around the stall. Nothing was out of the ordinary. She sighed. Then she caught a whiff of something horrid. Sniffing, she walked around the stall until she got to the hay. She bent down to examine it. The hay was slimy and rotten all the way through. This wasn't right. She had given Star her hay and it was perfectly fresh.

"Gomennasai, Ott-san. Star wa genki desuka? Did yo horse get sick on bad hay?"

She whipped around and saw Yamaguchi leaning in the doorway.

"You sonovabitch! You poisoned my horse!" Sam lounged at him and punched his cheek.

"How _dare_ you accuse me of give moldy hay to horse. It not right." He sneered at her, while rubbing his cheek. "If I were you, I learn matters."

"Don't you play dumb with me! I know you did it and I'll get you for this!"

"Just try and prove it, Ott-san. Sayonara." Yamaguchi bowed, then turned and strode down the aisle way. Sam sank down to the stall floor and started to cry. _No horse, no glory._


End file.
